Hard to Believe
by Dr. Mini Pie
Summary: Ishizu reveals a side of herself to Seto that she knows will earn his disdain. Trustshipping. One-shot.


**Doctor's Note:** I'm planning a decent-sized Trustshipping story, and I'm testing out Seto and Ishizu's relationship with this one-shot exercise. Please let me know what you think. Thanks! :) - Dr. Mini Pie

* * *

She harbored fairy-tale notions of romance. And of all the unusual things about her, she'd expected him to laugh at _that_. How many times had she heard him quip on fairy-tales, magic, or absolutely anything of the 'hocus pocus nonsense' variety? Laughing at her fantasies would be as natural as breathing for him.

But it seemed he would hold his breath for her. He didn't laugh.

Ishizu risked a glance up at his face – stone still, pensive, engaged. "Surely...surely such things are absurd to you," she insisted. His expression didn't shift an inch. She bit her lip and pressed on. "They are foolish, childish, for schoolgirls—"

Seto reached out a hand and laid it over hers. Ishizu's protest against herself died, and she gazed at him as though she longed to but dare not believe his reaction.

"Nothing you say," he said, soft and serious, "is absurd."

She felt a tear spring to her eye, and with the back of her free hand she dabbed it away. Her old friends from school had laughed at her. Even Marik and Odion, her brothers, had laughed at her.

 _Don't be ridiculous, Ishizu. Chivalry died ages ago – and trust me, a Tomb Keeper would know about ages._

 _You're serious? This is what you believe? And I thought you so wise, sister!_

 _Oh, please, Ishizu – a man like that doesn't exist._

 _You might as well go out with your imaginary friend._

Seto gave her space to cry, keeping his hand over hers and never turning away in shame or embarrassment. Even wet-faced and snotty, she was dignified – she was beautiful.

"Oh, Seto," she whispered, "what a silly thing to cry over. Now I want to laugh at _myself_."

She smiled a bit, inviting him to do the same, but he shook his head.

"I won't," he said.

Ishizu grimaced and started to cry again.

Seto leaned closer to her over the tabletop and brought his other hand up to her face. He laid it over the streaks of her tears and stroked her cheek.

"If we're together in this," he said to her, "then every silly dream your heart comes up with is mine, too."

He gave her a look so intensely ardent, it caused her to forget herself for a moment.

"And it's my privilege to cherish those dreams."

His words ought to have seemed foreign on lips trained to brag and criticize, but they flowed naturally, from a pure and honest place. Ishizu wanted to laugh now, not at herself, but at this incredulous contrast. With her, he was neither condescending nor proud. With her, he was—

Seto noticed her pursed lips and tightened his grip over her hand. "I'm serious," he assured her, brow furrowed. "Don't laugh."

But that did it – Ishizu, in a teary haze of emotion, found Seto's remark hilarious. She shook her head, watching his rising frustration and confusion – and she couldn't resist. She burst into laughter.

"Ishizu!"

She shook her head again, doubling over. He watched her, angry and uncertain, and worried that his pronouncement had been for nothing.

Soon she pulled her hand out from under his and rubbed her shining eyes with her palms. "No, Seto," she said between gasps for breath, "I'm just emotional." She looked up at him and smiled. "I promise."

He visibly relaxed, and managed a bit of a smile for her. "I'm new at this," he offered.

"You say that as though you'd prefer I go easy on you."

Seto's smile twisted up into a smirk. "Like you did in our duel?"

"Precisely."

He laughed. "At your wise-cracks, not at you," he was careful to specify afterward.

"If we must constantly apologize to each other for our wise-cracks, I'm afraid we'll have time to say little else," she said. She patted his hand, wanting to cry once again, but holding back for his sake.

Seto picked up on her careful expression. "We could make it a game," he suggested with a nonchalant shrug. "Keep score and all that. If you wanna see it written down." He couldn't help himself. "How badly you'll lose, that is."

Ishizu rolled her still-glistening eyes. "Good heavens," she said, leveling her wry gaze on him, "you're taking the words out of my mouth today."

"They tell me I'm clever."

Ishizu chuckled. She felt the drying tracks of her tears cracking and molding against her skin, and she knew she didn't look any better than she felt. She had to wash her face. Scooting her chair back from the table, she made to stand up, but Seto caught her arm and held her back.

"My dear," he said with exaggerated charm, "If I may be so bold." In a great flourish he rose from his own seat, swept behind her, and clutched the back of her chair. Then he paused and looked down at her, awaiting her consent.

Amused and a little annoyed, Ishizu swiveled around to remark on his tactless cheek. But when she met his eyes, they twinkled at her with equal measure of mirth and sincerity.

"...You may," she said.

He dipped his head in a bow. "It is indeed an honor," he replied, and pulled her chair out from under her as she rose to her feet.

Ishizu stood there with her back to him, gazing down at the tablecloth and their half-finished mugs of cold tea. She sensed him approach her from behind, and right then felt his arms wrap her against him into a gentle hug.

She leaned into him, and he rested his chin on top of her head.

"Illicit embracing...not your textbook knight-and-queen relationship," he said, only half sarcastic. He kissed the top of her head. "But I'll take it, if Her Majesty will."

Oh, why were tears her response to everything today?

"...She will."


End file.
